Make My Move (Hannaford Prep #5) - J. Bree Page 0,39
that can fill the need that she has, so why the fuck isn’t she doing something about it?
Avery warned me about upsetting her little Mounty friend when we’d first started studying together so instead of doing what I want to do, which is spread her out on the cushions and eat her out until she screams, I take her little pieces of my soul on paper to try to coax it out of her.
It’s all of the little things that I never talk to anyone about but that Ash, Harley, and Avery all somehow know. It’s the broken and bleeding parts of us all that somehow call out to each other until we’re all circling the same fixed point in time. It’s all the pieces of me that I find so fucking ugly but am completely fucking engrossed by and even though it’s fucking hard to share it with her, the way that she takes them without a word is oddly comforting.
The problem is that the more time I spend with her, the harder it is to ignore the looks that she sends my way. We’ve spread out on the floor where I’m most comfortable on the cushions in front of the TV. I’m dressed for comfort with my shirt unbuttoned and she can’t take her eyes off of me, not even when I look over at her in an attempt to get her to stop.
I’m only human, and I want her so fucking bad.
“Fuck, Mounty, don't make this even harder for me than it already is,” I groan and she looks up through her eyelashes, licking her bottom lip like she wants a taste, and I’m going to fucking break if she keeps it up.
“What's hard?” she says, her voice dripping with sex, and I just about nut myself. She blinks at me and I assume she’s just fucking with me, this is some new sort of torture she’s thought up for me as a punishment for the bullshit that was last year.
Right.
Calm the fuck down, Morrison, she’s definitely off limits. I tip my head back and let out the breath I’ve been holding trying to keep myself in check. When she clears her throat, I look over to find her blushing worse than ever and focusing on my homework again, mumbling under her breath a quiet, “Sorry.”
She looks fucking mortified and I’m fucking lost here.
Does she want me or not?
Fuck, it doesn’t matter if she wants me. Off. Limits. Morrison. I need to get my fucking head together and forget about this girl who is the only person in the fucking world who has ever looked at me and seen all of me without fucking hating me. Fuck, she sees parts of me that I don’t even show Ash or the others and not once has she judged me.
Even when I was a fucking asshole to her.
Maybe that’s the real reason I’m not chasing her like Harley is, because I know I don’t fucking deserve her. Fuck, none of us do. After everything Harley did to her last year, she used her secret connections to sort shit out with his family. She saved Avery from Rory even when they still hated each other. She’s tutored me without ever accepting money or social status for doing it.
I try to focus back on my homework but it’s fucking impossible now, especially with her sitting so close to me without actually touching me. Fuck, even that feels like a tease.
Am I going fucking crazy here? Probably.
Even blushing and twitching like she is, Lips puts together a page of notes for me for an upcoming test which I’m already pretty confident I’ll do well in. Fuck, I’ve never felt this prepared for classwork, and while my grades aren’t what my dad wants them to be, I’m going to ace them this year thanks to these tutoring sessions.
Her phone buzzes with a text from Avery to say she’s heading back from ballet practice and I watch as she packs up all of her supplies. She’s doing everything she can not to look at me and I decide that I really don’t give a fuck about consequences anymore. I just can’t fucking help myself.
I clear my throat but she ignores me, picking up papers and stacking them for no good reason but to look busy, all little movements that she does when she’s trying to blend in when inside she’s filled with that same chaos that I am.